


Persona 5: The Reborn

by Infinite_Carnage



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Bounty Hunters, Conspiracy, Cults, Gen, Monsters, Mystery, POV Third Person, Personal Growth, Redemption, Second Chances, Urban Fantasy, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29684979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinite_Carnage/pseuds/Infinite_Carnage
Summary: The story is over.The Phantom Thieves ride off into the sunset having completed the heist of the century, and leaving behind those they came to call confidants. Sojiro Sakura was one of those privileged few. Now he faces an unknown future, with only his memories to keep him company.  However, Sojiro is about to step into the adventure of a lifetime.Waking up in a body nearly thirty years younger and in a world not quite his own, he finds himself unwittingly dragged into a divine comedy where he is the leading role.  His adopted daughter is now his caretaker, a strange masked man is watching his every move, and the school he's just transferred to is seemingly ready to implode.Stuck in the middle with no hope in sight, Boss finds himself at a crossroads. Either he does what he's always done in life, walk away from all his problems and hide away the best he can, or for the very first time, take his life into his own hands and fight back against those who are seemingly untouchable. At last, his salvation emerges as a strange app installs itself on his phone...The Hunt Begins!(This fanfic is heavily inspired by the Adult Confident AU created by ScruffyTurtles)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 15





	1. An Old World Fool

Rain hammered against the windows of the coffee shop, the streets outside were already a pitch black, and the only soul that stood in this humble little corner of Tokyo, had come to the same conclusion he had reached a thousand times over; he was all alone. 

It was a feeling that Sojiro Sakura had begun to greet like a tired old friend, one who inevitably came back into his life no matter how many times he tried to chase them away. It was a grim spectre that plagued his humble home until it finally tired of torturing him. This time though, he had a funny feeling that it was finally here to stay.

He looked over to the clock, exactly five minutes until closing time. No one else was coming tonight, not in this weather and not with it so dark out. He could close up right now and not a thing would be different, but when he considered moving from his spot he felt his legs lock into place and all his will power depart. Perhaps this was another crux of his old age, or maybe he was finally losing his mind. The reason didn't matter because regardless, he found himself forced to watch the clock as each second ticked away slower than the last.

He thought about what he might do tonight, likely grab something out of the fridge and fall asleep in front of the TV… again. He laughed, then grimaced to himself as the ticks and tocks drew further apart. He looked away and found his gaze move towards the now empty attic. It was strange, stranger than when the kid first moved into this place. Now it felt like something was missing and he knew it wouldn’t be coming back, at least not for long anyway. 

He detested the whole affair at first, he wanted nothing more than to pretend the kid never existed, that he was just another regular who he could stare straight through. Then the cat happened, then he started working in the store, they made food together, brought his friends over, dragged Futaba out of her shell, then before he knew it that kid pretty much saved the whole damn world and didn’t ask for even a lick of thanks. Now he was gone, gone like all the others. 

Futaba would be starting school again soon, she would finally move on with her life and become the woman Sojiro always knew she could be, the type of person Wakaba would be proud of. Typically she would wake him up before the start of the work day, if she was feeling generous she might even bring him something to eat, but tonight she was staying with her friends again, he was lucky to see her at home at all these days. Soon she would leave him too, to find her own life and story in this crazy messed up world they all struggle in. And as the earth kept spinning around him, he would remain here, the one constant in this place, trapped in this humble prison of his making.

He looked at the clock again, thirty seconds had passed. He sighed heavily and rubbed his tired eyes. Everything had been wiped down and prep was already complete for the next day. For the first time in far longer than he could remember, he would be closing the shop early tonight. He was just about to untie his apron when he heard the familiar sound of the little bell attached to his door. A figure walked in with a long red raincoat that covered them from head to toe. A hood was draped over their head, and Sojiro assumed his eyes were playing up, because what lay underneath seemed indistinguishable to him. The stranger remained at the door as it closed behind him.

“Hey, sorry, but I’m afraid I was about to close.” Sojiro explained as he cleared his throat.

The figure did not move. For his part, 'Boss' couldn’t even tell if he was looking at a man or a woman. They weren’t much taller than him and if not for the coat they’d probably be on the skinny side. Despite this though, he couldn’t help but tense up when he realised the stranger had no intention of leaving. Then quite suddenly, the stranger started to make their way towards his counter.

“Hey, did you hear me? I said we’re closed!” He spoke with more authority, but the stranger did not slow down. They walked until they were face to face with the boss himself, and what did Sojiro see under the hood? Nothing, not a damn thing. Inside the void was nothing but pitch blackness, like there was no one there at all.

“I would like a coffee,” the stranger finally spoke, their voice utterly hollow and barely above a whisper. 

Sojiro wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream and shout at this person who dared to ask him for a drink. But he could not, strangely he found himself barely able to move at all, until his feet seemingly developed a will of their own and turned him straight around. His hands sprung to life and switched on his machine and grabbed the nearest cup, and on instinct he asked “What would you like?”

“Surprise me,” they said.

Sojiro began the process he had perfected a thousand times over. He was at a stage in his life that if he were told he could only make coffee with his eyes closed, he probably would have no difficulty at all. To be frank, he felt like he had just done so, for soon he realised he had blacked out entirely and when he was awake, there he stood with a fresh mug in his hand. The stranger gently took it.

“Thank you,” they said as they brought it to their lips. Sojiro could hear them chug down the mugs' contents as if they were an ice cool beer. They slammed the mug back onto the counter, the porcelain cup barely holding itself together under the pressure; there was nothing left inside. “Blue mountain, a lovely blend, and quite expensive too from what I understand.”

“That stuff ain't cheap to get,” Boss remarked as he crossed his arms in a huff. The stranger paid no heed to his comment and gazed around the room.

“This is your world then?” The stranger suddenly asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Your palace? Your kingdom? Your hideout? Depends how you look at it.”

“You lost me,” Sojiro breathed out in exasperation. It was going to be a long night. “If you’re finished, as I said, I was about to close. So would-”

“Humans are so determined to carve out their place in the world. They crave territory. All they want is a place where they may do as they please away from prying eyes. They need their hideaway, their own perfect world.”

Sojiro stayed silent, the tension in his body climbing by the second. He hated the crazies, he used to deal with them all the time back in the day, but now his clients were the elderly and the occasional regular. The worst thing about people like this we’re their unpredictable nature, they were as likely to hug you as they were to stab you. The smart thing would be to stay silent, to let them ramble on and hope for the best. Yet once again a strange impulse came over the Boss.

“What are you talking about?”

The figure stared back at him and was silent for a moment before clearing their throat. “Forgive me, I’m in a melancholy mood.”

“You’re not from around here are you?”

“You could say that,” the stranger laughed. “I’m from very far away indeed. I guess you could say I was given a second chance in life.”

“Second chance, huh?”

“You know something about that, I imagine.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, is that not what all mortals desire? To start again? To correct the mistakes of your youth?”

Sojiro went quiet as he focused on a single word that this stranger said; mortal. That was a curious word indeed, one that implied that the being he was dealing with was not exactly on the same playing field as him. Thinking back further, his eyes widened as he missed the curious choice word of ‘human’ just a moment prior. 

“You’ve grown quiet?” The stranger noticed. “Have I said something wrong?”

“No, just thinking is all,” Sojiro tried to explain away, but he knew in the pit of his stomach that the stranger wasn’t buying it.

“I find myself drawn to this place, trying to find one with a power I have seen before, but I am too late. They are gone, and instead I find you.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you, but as you said, they aren’t here. Isn’t it best you head along now?” He crossed his arms again, trying his best to appear as tall as possible.

“Why would I do that? After all, I think you might be exactly what I need.”

More now than ever before, Sojiro wished he had a weapon on hand. But he still felt himself being held back, as if someone was pulling at his strings and keeping him firmly in place. 

“Get out!” He barked defiantly.

“Don’t you want to go back, Sojiro Sakura? Don’t you too wish to start again?”

“What the hell are you talking about!? If you don’t leave immediately, I’m calling the police.”

“Ah, yes, that would be unpleasant indeed.” The stranger stood up and removed the hood that had been covering their head. There was nothing there. Where there should have been a head, instead was nothing but thin air. “But how does one arrest something that doesn’t exist at all?”

Sojiro stared slack-jawed at the sight - or lack thereof - before him. He had always been a man of reasonable logic, having little time for rumor and ghost stories. Yet he now knew the world around him was not so simple. He knew the kid had faced down monsters and even gods in the last year alone, and standing right before Sojiro, was one of those beings. He did not know what to say? What could he say? Suddenly he felt as if he was staring down death itself.

“I will ask again; do you not wish to start over?”

“St-start over what?” Boss was losing his nerve, but held on all the same.

“All of this. From when you had your youth, your looks, your aspirations; back when your outlook on life was not so bitter and dull.”

“Wh-what do you want from me?”

“To play a game. A simple game. One I think deep down inside your soul, you’d very much like to take part in.” The strange man lifted up his arm and extended it towards Sojiro. “All you have to do is accept the deal I offer you?”

In every scenario that played out in Sojiro’s head, he could not perceive one where he made it out of this. He could not call for help, he could not flee, hell, he couldn’t move for the life of him. All he was able to do was listen to what this strange man had to say. 

“Go on then.” He responded gruffly, trying to sound as tough as he could.

“I will take you to a place where you can truly start again. To live a life of friendship, romance, adventure, all your hearts desires in one fell swoop. At the end of this journey, you shall be given a choice. To stay in the world that I have made for you, or to return home.”

“... Just like that, huh?” He said slowly, eyeing the man between his outstretched hand and where his head should have been. “Just, what, live a week or two in some crazy world you make and go straight back?”

“It might be a bit longer than that,” the figure answered, topped off with a dark chuckle. “But yes, as you said, you can go straight home, as if nothing happened at all.”

The logical part of him was screaming at the top of its lungs that this was insane, yet Sojiro could not deny the small part that was buried in his subconscious that liked the sound of that. In this moment, if it had come from a reasonably sane source, he would’ve leapt at the chance. Yet it didn’t take long for him to come to a single conclusion.

This guy was bluffing.

It was horseshit, the lot of it. Maybe he was a god, a monster, or some really deranged magician, but he knew a bogus offer when he heard one. This guy said it himself, he was after Akira, not him. This was all a ploy to buy himself some time. Likely he’d get kidnapped and this guy would bank on Akira, Futaba, and their friends to come rescue him. He’d have nothing to worry about. He’d just put his feet up and wait for them to kick his spooky butt into another dimension.

“Sure, pal,” Sojiro said with a mocking chuckle. “You just whip up your new world there. I’ll jump right in. Not like I got a whole life here or anything.”

“So… we have an agreement?” The entire time, the strange man’s arm had remained held out. He flexed his hand in and out, waggling the fingers, yearning for some contact.

“Deal.” Solijro took his hand, and the moment he did so, the stranger grabbed hold of him so tightly he nearly crushed his hand entirely

“The deal has been made!”

Sojiro yelped in pain as the man refused to let go. The Boss could not pull away, his hand felt like it was trapped in a vice. As the pain dulled his senses, in his panic, he almost missed the world around him begin to melt away. What colours shone through the darkness trickled through the floor, the world outside his windows was expunged entirely. The walls started to creep in on him, his concept of reality was spinning round and round.

The one constant in all of this was what remained of the man in the dark red coat, his hood back up, and a toothy smile that had revealed itself to him. What little else existed between them vanished entirely as Sojiro found himself staring into the void. The last thing tangible to him was his own screams as he fell into oblivion.


	2. Blue Velvet

At some point during his descent, Boss lost track of time. Perhaps somewhere down the line he had lost his mind as well. The darkness was never ending, swallowing him further and further until it was all he knew. At times he thought he might have seen a speck of light twinkle in the event horizon, but it would always vanish before he had a chance to zero in on it.

In every sense of the word he felt like he was losing himself. He couldn't even see his own flailing body with how infernally dark it was. He was even struggling to recall anything about himself or when he'd just been. Madness had wiggled into his noggin like a leech feeding off his brain matter. He was surely destined to face a most grim end, if he was even allowed to die at all. Maybe he'd just keep falling forever, laughing and crying to himself for all eternity.

Then something fluttered by his vision. Gently it weaved left and right, hypnotising him with its majesty. It was a tiny blue butterfly. It sparkled a brighter blue than Sojiro thought possible. Perhaps it was the blackness around it that made it stand out so, but it seemed to have a light source all of its own. It sparkled like starlight, finally settling on his nose.

Ordinarily, Sojiro would have shooed it away, himself never being a particular fan of the insect. Yet he dared not move a muscle, in fear that his only tangle source of light would leave him behind. What Boss could not have predicted was the light that shone forth from this tiny butterfly began to burn brighter and brighter. In a matter of moments, it consumed Sojiro entirely, and where once had been nothing but blackness, was now nothing but white. He felt a ringing in his ear, his mind groggy and his breathing heavy.

"Damn," he muttered to himself. He coughed and sputtered as he felt the wind had been knocked out of him.

The white began to depart, and only then did he realise he had stopped falling. Not only that, but he felt something beneath him that wasn't the now haunting feeling of wind rushing past him. Velvet; the soothing touch of velvet was between his finger tips. He savoured the sensation like it would be his last. As his vision returned to him, he was now greeted to the soothing colour of a deeper, richer blue.

Before him was a carpet, and around it a glossy black marble floor. He was certainly not in the void anymore, but he wasn't anywhere he recognised either. As began to regain full control of his faculties, a sharp feminine tone called out into the distance.

"The accused may rise!"

Sojiro shook his head again, now realising he was not alone. He froze on the spot as he felt a trickle of sweat travel down his forehead. He had the uneasy feeling course through him that there were more than one set of eyes upon him.

"I will repeat. The accused may rise!" She called out again, and the Boss was starting to suspect she was referring her to him.

He got onto his knees and lifted himself off of the ground. As he did so, the top of his head whacked against something wooden and hard.

"Ouch," he groaned not so eloquently. He clutched at the sudden shot of pain that travelled over his cranium

"The accused will have plenty of time to focus on his pain later. Court is now in session!"

This lady was starting to get on his nerves. However, a single word she spoke stood out to him immediately. Court? He was in court? His eyes shot open, and Sojiro was finally able to take in the whole room.

Sure enough, he was in a courtroom, but unlike any he'd seen before. Your typical Japanese courtroom was a bog standard affair, white and brown, a long desk with everyone important behind it, and the room split into two sides. One for the prosecution, the other for the defence.

Sojiro was standing at his own podium at the centre of the room. The walls around him were the same colour blue as the carpet. His podium, and the construction before him was a deep black, with a curious symbol fixed at the raised desk where the judge should be. A swivel chair had its back turned towards him, and the Boss could make out the lithe arms of whoever was sitting on it. It was such a grand structure, it seemingly reached to the very heavens, forcing Sjiro to keep his eyes upwards.

Standing before the judges platform was quite possibly the most imposing woman Sojiro had ever seen. She was easily a whole foot taller than him, she had dark skin and a set of fiery eyes that were fixed straight at him. Her long white hair contrasted against her body, her blue outfit matched the rest of the room, and appeared to be a more fanciful version of a guards uniform. Her shoulders were squared up, her generous chest puffed out, and poking out from the hands behind her back, he could make out the familiar image of a night stick held tightly. The most intense part about her were her notable lacks of sleeves, her bulging muscles unable to be contained within the fabric.

"Let us begin!" Lifting one hand up, she snapped her fingers and where there once had been a void of silence, was quickly replaced with song.

As if he appeared from thin air, a man and his piano emerged from Sojiro's left, his whimsical melody filling the room with a tune he had performed for since the dawn of time. To his right, a woman joined in his song with her elegant voice, her highest notes reaching the depths of Sojiro's soul. And lastly, at the top of the podium, the chair spun in place and the judge was revealed. He was a man with a kind, yet twisted smile; half his face covered in a porcelain white mask. As the music reached its peak, his voice travelled down to Sojiro's ears as if he was speaking beside him.

"I am Philemon, a dweller in the rift between consciousness and unconsciousness of all souls. I am you. You are me. I will always watch over you, no matter where you might be." He paused, pursing his lips as he himself seemed to take in the room for the first time. "You must forgive me, it has been some time since I last found myself in this spot. I fear I am a tad rusty at all of this."

"Uh huh," was all Boss could utter, his jaw working overtime to find anything else to say towards this bizarre situation.

"The one I usually entrust with such matters is a bit preoccupied these days. He is recovering from a terrible sentence, so here I am instead."

"Right…"

"I see we've started theming these events as well. Tad dramatic, but I quite like it myself."

"May I ask-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the giant of a woman launched herself forwards and whacked the hand Sojiro had left resting on his podium with her baton. He yelped in pain as she grew closer to his face.

"No questions from the accused. Your time will come later." She returned to her spot as fast as she had left it. As he nursed what he suspected was a few broken bones, Sojiro found himself staring fearfully at every inch of this amazonian woman. He knew if she wanted too, she could have destroyed him entirely, and she'd barely break a sweat doing so.

"Shelley," Philemon admonished with a smile, waggling his finger at her. She sulked and tilted her head down. "Forgive her. She's new and eager to please."

"I-I can see that," Boss stammered, hoping not to invoke her ire again.

"Now, ordinarily, we'd pay you a visit before you accepted any kind of contract, but it would appear that fate is whimsical today. Your journey has taken a most curious turn, Sojiro Sakura. I'm afraid I must find you guilty of that at least."

Ever since he had arrived in this place, Boss had been bombarded with a wide array of emotions. Joy that he was no longer falling, fear of this new unknown, panic at the sight of these strangers, calm at the music, but now he felt a sudden strike of anger. He knew it was not wise, but he had never had the coolest of heads, especially when he felt his back firmly against the wall.

"Guilty!? Of what crime?"

Shelley gripped her baton tighter, but Philemon only laughed, It was not a cruel cackle, but a warm chuckle, as he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

"Accepting the devil's bargain, of course. Why else do you think you found yourself here?"

"Accepted? A bargain?"

"Do you truly not recall? Think on what you last did before you started plummeting into the void."

And that's what he did. He recalled all that has happened before. The coffee shop, the disturbing stranger, his bizarre proposition, and most importantly, Sojiro's regrettable decision to take him up on it.

"I-I didn't have a choice!" Sojiro suddenly cried out. Shelly's eyes widened with anger as she stared him down, and Boss suddenly felt himself grow very small. "Well I didn't know he was serious."

"Didn't have a choice, didn't know he was serious, these are excuses, Sojiro. Words spoken like a child dodging responsibility for their actions. Yet a court of law cares nothing for these notions. It only cares what you did and didn't do. And as you have unwisely confessed, you made a deal with the devil itself."

Philemon picked up the gavel and slammed it on his podium. The sound struck like the crack of hip whip, echoing across the courtroom, bringing everything back to an unnerving silence.

"Court is now in session," the strange man announced. "Shelley, your opening statement."

"The accused, Sojiro Sakura, agreed so selfishly to abandon his world and ideals for the sake of a new life in a new body," Shelley growled out loudly, pointing her baton at Sojiro. "He is a wretched man indeed, giving power to a being who will only abuse it. How does the accused plead? Guilty or not guilty?

"What is all this? Is this all some game to all of you?" Sojiro quickly found his fire again in the face of rapid accusations.

"No more questions! Answer me; guilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty!"

"An interesting stance to take for a man who practically confessed to the crime just moments ago." Philemon cut in.

"And I already told you. I did not know his offer was serious. I thought he was some whackjob godthing, who I needed to bide time with until someone could get me out of that mess."

"So you do not deny agreeing to his deal then?"

"Damn it," Sojiro rubbed his eyes as he sighed in exasperation. "That's not the point. I didn't have a choice."

"A court has no time for such ill-pratter," Shelley spoke up. "Much like your flimsy concept of society, it is kept in check by hardline rules and barriers. If you kill a man, does it matter why? Only that you did."

"But if I kill a man in self-defence, then the context does matter." Sojiro crossed his arms and looked at her sternly. "You can't seriously pretend to not see the difference."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you kill your world in self-defence?"

"K-kill my world?" Sojiro felt his heart stop in his chest. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Your concept of reality, the world you once inhabited is no more. You have erased it, and it has been made anew to cater solely to you. It has become your little playground."

Something in Sojiro's mind snapped. She was lying, she had to be. There was no way everything he knew was now gone forever. Futaba, Le Blanc, the kids, the memory of Wakaba, it was all nothing but dust?

"I couldn't even move! I was nothing but putty in that freaks hands." No, he refused to accept it. He pressed on, pushing it out of his mind.

"Again, you are unable to deny your crime. You chose yourself above all others. Shameful, truly and utterly unforgivable."

"Fine, you know what, yes I did. But you already knew that, all of you. This is just for show. You're playing me for a damn fool."

The music stopped. Silence reigned once more. Philemon and Shelley stared blankly at Sojiro. Neither betrayed any emotion behind their eyes, and the longer the silence went on, the more conscious Sojiro became of the passage of time. And then, with no prompting whatsoever, Philemon smiled a large toothy grin.

"The fool…" He spoke quietly, just loud enough for Sojiro to hear. "The start of a journey. That is what you are, Sojiro, but there is no shame in that. Young and old alike, we all go through times where we must venture into the unknown. Now after so long waiting, your time has begun." The gavel whacked against the podium once more, and the song began to play again. "A verdict has been reached!"

"How do we find the accused?" Shelley asked, refusing to tear her gaze from Sojiro.

"Guilty! Guilty on all accounts!"

The Boss found his heart sink to his stomach as a new sense of dread washed over him. For the first time since he had met her, Shelley grinned. It was a sinister smile, one barely masking her sickening intent.

"And now what becomes of the accused?"

"Why what else? He is given the greatest punishment any one being can suffer through. He must now live his life!"

"... What?" Sojiro muttered as he gave Philemon a confused stare.

"You must live your life in penance, Sojiro Sakura. For your selfish deed, you will get to live this new found existence, but you will not live without responsibility. You live now with the memory of your crimes, and that you must bring others to justice."

"Justice? What are you going on about now?" Sojiro grit his teeth and called out. "Damn it! Give me some straight answers!"

"There have been many men and women throughout time that have taken an important roles in history; some were messiahs, others truth seekers, and a rare few tricksters, but this is not a story for any of them. Your tale - or rather your role - is one of the hunter. Sojiro, that is your sentence, to be this new worlds hunter."

There was so much more Sojiro wanted to say, so much more he wanted to ask, but then he felt eyelids grow heavy. He let out a weak yawn as he was hit by an unbearable state of exhaustion.

"Our time is up, I'm afraid. Sojiro, know this; you are a guest in this velvet room. When the time comes, we will speak again. But only when your role becomes clear. I wish you luck. Remember; I am always watching over you."

The corners of his vision grew dark, he now struggled to stand on his own two feet. Before he knew it he had collapsed to the floor again. His fear was smothered by his own exhaustion, the sounds of that beautiful song helping him to fall fast asleep.


	3. Doyle's

Something rumbled all around Sojiro. His body bumped and vibrated against the uncomfortable seat he now found himself in. He could make out the familiar sound of a carriage on train tracks, the distant conversations of strangers just meters from him, the buzzing din of a speaker updating the passengers on board. Sojiro hated taking the subway. He had a car for a reason, even if the train might have been more convenient, it was always the very last option.

He opened his eyes, and sure enough, that is where he found himself. The train was surprisingly light in terms of load, there were actually a few seats free, which ordinarily would be a miracle. It took him a few moments to calibrate himself, a few minutes more to come to grips with all that had occurred. And for a moment, he came to the satisfying conclusion that it had all been a truly bizarre dream.

"What a nightmare," he murmured, letting out a sigh of relief. "What am I even doing here?" His voice felt lacking in its usual smooth rumble. It was slightly higher pitched, but he chalked that up to his groggy state. He cleared his throat and looked around his surroundings once more, from what little he could make out from the intercom, the next stop would be Yongen-Jaya. He was nearly home. Sojiro sat back and breathed out slowly, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding in.

Then something rumbled in his pocket. Instinctively he reached for his phone, pulling it out to glance at the notification. He had a message from someone called 'Necronomicon' telling him to meet them at the usual place. That was strange enough, considering he had no one listed under that name in his contacts. What was even stranger was this wasn't his phone. It recognised his thumbprint, even the same pattern he always used, but his phone was a much older model than this one. If it worked, don't replace it, that was the Sojiro way.

He stared at it blankly, his mind struggling to think of any explanation. He let the screen fall asleep, reflecting a black mirror to his person. The man staring back was far too young to be him. He recognised the visage, it was one he had not seen for far longer than he cared to remember. A head full of hair, not a wrinkle in sight, the faint beginnings of a goatee, a cheeky grin naturally fixed upon his boyish face. He was smiling. He didn't have a clue what was happening, whether he was even awake or not, but he was smiling all the same. He touched his face, his skin was as smooth as it had been a lifetime ago. He looked upon his hands, the marks and burns that had piled up over two decades of kitchen work were gone.

"That son of a bitch," he spoke softly, marveling at his own body. His clothes were different again, he was now in the shujin academy uniform. He checked the phone again and realised the date was different as well. He had jumped back nearly an entire year, it was twenty sixteen all over again. April Tenth to be exact, the day before school began.

"It's true, you've got to be kidding me." He stood up next, his body instantly feeling lighter and spriter than it had felt in what felt like a century. His knees didn't ache, there was no acute pain in his back, this was actually him. He was a damn kid.

His cheeks went pink as he realised he was speaking to himself. His eyes darted around the carriage, making sure no one was listening in. Thankfully the other passengers either had their heads in their phones, were asleep, or too focused on their own little world to care. All except the girl opposite him. She could be no older than what he physically was. She was dressed up in a maid outfit. She likely had just come off work at one of those cafes he always passed. She looked at him strangely, as if she was almost studying him, but she turned away when his eyes met hers.

He had to admit, she was cute. He felt like a dirty old man for thinking so, he had always stuck to women in his own age bracket, but outside of the tacky outfit she was beautiful. Fluffy brunette hair, a slim figure and face, smooth pale skin, but she looked tired. No, it wasn't just that, she seemed sad to him. He caught himself staring as she looked back at him, and quickly looked away himself.

"We will be stopping at Yongen-Jaya. This is the last stop for today. We apologise for any delay."

Sojiro could feel the train begin to slow. He grabbed hold of the closest bar to halt his momentum. In doing so, he noticed the bag by his seat that was likely his as well. He slung it over his shoulder, checking the contents. There was a small glasses case that matched his own, a set of pens and pencils, and a little black book filled with what he recognised as phone numbers, each with a young ladies name beside him.

" _Oh yeah, this is definitely my stuff,"_ he chuckled in his own head.

The train came to a stop and the doors flung open. He moved quickly to get out first, dodging any chance to get swept away by the small crowd of other passengers. As the hustle and bustle of the world surrounded him, Sojiro took a moment to catch his breath. He spied the maid pass him by, throwing another strange glance at him as she vanished somewhere ahead. She proved only a momentary distraction, the reality of his situation still dawning upon him.

This was his life.

If what those strange men said was true, this was him now, his reality. He was starting out with all the wisdom and experience of a man nearly three times his physical age, but was clueless where his place in the world was. He quickly spied a bench and sat down. Pulling out his phone he pulled up his contacts and scanned through them. There were not many, no mother or father seemingly, nor any siblings. So nothing new on that front. He didn't even keep the names of the girls in his little book here either. Likely they were only called on a burner phone. There were a handful of messages of friends wishing him well, a few threats left by unknown numbers, and a direct line to an adoption agency.

Sojiro did not reflect often on his childhood, nor his parents either. He had always been an orphan, an unwanted in the world. He never cared for a family, at least not till Wakaba and Futaba came into his life. It seemed even in a world made for him things had played out not so differently. He obviously was going to Shujin judging by his uniform, which he had never attended before so that was different at least. Since this was the last stop, he could only assume that Yongen was his destination. But where? Surely not LeBlanc? That shouldn't even exist at all.

The longer he waited, the stranger he started to feel. His minding was reaching to dark places, especially when it came to what that Shelley woman told him. Had he really destroyed his world? No, no way, he couldn't have. That was never part of the deal. Yet even if it was so, what would happen with him gone? How would Futaba and the rest react, would he lose his store? His mind started to spin at a dangerous rate, only interrupted by his phone vibrating.

"Where are you?" Asked a message from Necronomicon.

"You again?" Boss muttered to himself. He was still unsure who this could be, but at least it was a direction. "I'm at the station, just arrived in Yongen." He replied.

"C'mon slowpoke, been waiting all day for you. Just come round to Doyle's, I'll be at the counter as usual."

"Doyle's, huh?" He read aloud.

Sojiro brought himself up to his feet and remembered the app Futaba had showed him that was essentially a map of where he was. Sure enough, Doyle's was not far. In fact, it seemed unnervingly close to where LeBlanc should have been. He put that thought out of his mind though and walked up the steps and out of the station.

His block was only a few minutes away. Having ignored the time before, it wasn't until he was back in the open world that he realised it was the early evening. When he first stepped into the alleyway and took in the whole scene, it felt like he had never left at all. A few steps further in and it became apparent that wasn't the case. The cinema was completely abandoned; now boarded up entirely. The doctor's office wasn't there, just a regular pharmacy instead. The bath house was a chinese massage parlour, the laundromat was much larger than before, and that wasn't the only thing strangely bigger.

Doyle's wasn't just close to where LeBlanc should have been, it was exactly where it had been. It consisted of over three buildingings sandwiched together, and while they served coffee, it was clearly not the same establishment as before. Drawing closer, Sojiro's face contorted in horror and his eyes threatened to burst past his spectacles as it dawned upon him what had happened to his beloved store.

"An internet cafe?" The disgust leaked from his every pore. "Ugh."

Everything about it was wrong. Gone was the wooden brown varnish and the vintage style, now replaced by ugly modern eccentricity, tacky tube lightly and a dull dark blue. He wanted to puke. He held his nose and looked over it once more, noting the 'twenty-four hour' sign attached to the store.

"Maybe this is a nightmare after all." He closed his eyes and hoped to wake up back in his cafe, but reality was cruel to him once more. "Fine, let's get this over with."

A shrill beep boop rang out, signifying a new customer. He never realised just how much he could miss the little bell attached to his door. The front desk was a plain white a blue surface, covered in stickers from anime shows and what he recognised as Featherman characters. While he was no expert - all his knowledge came from Futaba's rantings - they seemed a little off to him, but again he chalked that up to alternate reality shenanigans. Behind the counter was a till register, several rows of snacks and three instant coffee machines. He wouldn't dare sully LeBlanc with anything of the sort, seeing them there hurt his soul.

To his left as he entered he realised why the store was so much larger than before. Two rows of small cubicles stretched all the way downward, with a narrow walkway to reach them. What little he knew about these places, he was certain there were people practically living here. It was disgusting to him, a truly miserable way to live. But Sojiro took a very strong 'Don't ask, don't tell' policy. He certainly wasn't breaking it for a bunch of weirdos living in a space the size of a large dresser. The one closest to him though was watching something obnoxiously loud, and what it was saying caught Sojiro's attention.

"Once again, the newly elected Prime Minister defended the lockdown measures by assuring the general public it was in the interest of the country's cultural standards. There have been numerous accusations of the ministers-"

"There he is!" Cried a voice from the top of the stairs. A frighteningly familiar one.

Sojiro craned his neck to look up and found a surprising tall older woman coming down from the attic. She had long bright orange hair, while most of it was tied up behind her head, two long strands traveled down her lithe frame. She wore a long sleeved green t-shirt with a cute design on it, with a messy apron around it. Instead of trousers, she had black and white striped leggings with mismatching black military boots. She seemed a weathered, shambles of a woman, who retained a cheeky side of her chaotic youth. She gave Sojiro a smile through her slightly wrinkled face that rang scarily familiar to him, and the longer he stared at her, the further his dread rose internally. All at once, he knew exactly who this fully grown woman was.

"Futaba!?"

"In the flesh, kiddo!"

She pranced downward before bringing him into a tight hug. His face was sandwiched between her very modest chest as she nearly spun him around. The thought of being in this uncomfortable position with what essentially was his foster daughter would ordinarily be enough to send his mind over the edge, but seeing Futaba like this at all, let alone somehow taller than him, remained his current mental crisis. She released him from her hold, only to switch to a headlock as he gave him a nuggie.

"Still got your hair I see," she teased as she tortured him.

"Ow, quit it," he protested, trying to pull away.

"C'mon, what's the password."

"What?"

"Won't let you go till I hear it."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Stop it young lady!" He pulled himself free, as Futaba stared at him dumbfounded. She then gave him a crooked smile.

"That just might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

His cheeks went red as he realised exactly what he just said. He shouldn't be embarrassed, for him it was a statement as natural as breathing, but in the context of this world, their roles were clearly on the opposite ends of what they once were. This was going to take some getting used to.

"You trying to scold me now? I am looking after you for the next year y'know."

"You are!?" He said louder than he intended.

"Well I hope so. No one else is gonna take your sorry butt in, are they?"

Once or twice in his dreams, he could picture an older Futaba taking over the store from him. It had always been a happy thought, but from where he was standing now, it was all a nightmare. This place was soulless to him, devoid of any culture or tranquility. He bit his lip as he felt the need to rant grow ever higher.

"Hello? Earth to Sojiro?"

"Whu-" Sojiro stammered.

"What a troublesome kid I've taken in," she clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. She pulled out a pre-rolled cigarette from her apron pocket, lighting it up right in front of him and taking a long drag.

Sojiro felt his fatherly instincts kick in immediately. He wanted nothing more than to smack the smoke stick out from between her lips. He had to remind himself of his position, that their dynamic was now on the complete opposite end. Not to mention he'd be a hypocrite as well. He himself was not exactly free from the habit. Her choice of words started to play back over and over in his head; he had heard that phrase somewhere before, from what felt like a lifetime ago.

"Well no point wasting time around here, let me show you the room." She turned on the spot and headed back up the stairs. Sojiro found himself staring back down the line of cubicles, simmering in his displeasure. "You coming or not?" Futaba teased, already halfway up the staircase.

Sojiro let out a sigh and followed behind her. A pit formed where here his stomach should have been. He realised where Futaba was taking him, and he felt karmic forces in play. Sure enough, they arrived in Akira's old room, yet it somehow seemed worse than before. There was a constant buzz that grew louder the further he stepped through, caused by the large servers placed on the far right. A collection of junk lined the haphazardly made shelves; filled with broken tools, discarded figures and random computer junk he wouldn't have a clue as to their purpose. There was a thin line of dust on everything, the only fresh thing was the bed which seemed to have been added recently.

"Tada! What do you think?"

"You want me to answer honestly?" He blurted out, unable to mask his opinion.

"I know, I know, but this is the best I can do. There's nowhere else to really put you."

"So living in your place is not an option?"

"Kiddo, this is my house," She said slowly, looking at him as if he had two heads. "You alright today? You don't seem with it."

"N-no I'm fine. Just a long journey is all," he tried to cover up.

"Well okay, just so you know, my room is on the other side if you need something," she chimed in, pointing back from where they had come. He had noticed before, but the entire upper floor was now one long corridor with two doors on either end. She was right, he really wasn't with it right now. "So why don't we cut the chase here, yeah?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I don't hear from you in years and suddenly you've uprooted your whole life just to come out here? To Shujin of all places? You are aware it's one of the worst schools in the country."

"I mean I know it's rough, but it's not that bad." He rubbed the back of his head, a nervous tick of his he suspected had contributed to his hair loss. The Shujin back home at the very least had a good reputation, but the look Futaba gave him told him this was not the case here.

"You're not stupid, Sojiro, as much you're pretending to play dumb right now. You know I'll always give you a place to stay, kiddo. You're practically family. But dont get any stupid ideas running through your head about revenge or any nonsense. Under this roof you're a normal high school student. No crusades, no schemes or plans of any kind. You just focus on graduating and living your life. I make myself clear?"

Sojiro's mouth went numb as the full weight of Futaba's words settled upon him. He didn't have a clue as to what she was referring to, and it was dawning on him just how out of his depth he was.

"Crystal."

"Atta boy," she beamed, bringing him in for a quick hug. "I'll let you get some sleep. Remember, first day of school tomorrow. Don't do a me and stay up too late, okay?"

"I'll try not to."

She waved him goodbye and closed the door behind her. Sojiro was alone again. He stayed in the centre of the room, filled to the brim with anxiety and worry. When he regained the feeling in his limbs, he took note of what he was left with. The room was smaller than the one he had left Akira, as it had partially been taken over by the servers. He was thankful they only emitted a low constant hum, in the right mindset it would make things easier to drift off too.

There was a small computer desk with an old games console, a laptop with a ribbon around it, and an antique monitor. A note was attached, simply telling him not to make her regret the purchase; it was definitely from Futaba. There was a drawer full of tools, a large box that simply read 'Sojiro's Stuff.' It seemed he had sent the rest of his belongings before he arrived.

"What have we got here?"

There was little inside of actual interest to him. There were some weights, a few outfits, and a bunch of other junk he could sort through tomorrow. The stress, shock and confusion had left him in a fatigued state. He hoped if he might drift off now this nightmare might be out to bed as well. He began his usual routine, even reaching for the meds his doctor prescribed, realising too late they were not needed in his now youthful form. He noticed the mirror behind him, nailed into the wall.

He stared back at the man now only in his underwear. He would never get used to this sight, it felt too alien to him. Something then occurred to Sojiro, this was all on borrowed time anyway. That strange man said the deal meant he could go back home when he was given the choice, he just had to wait for him to call. When that was though, he couldn't be sure. He was but a toy in a world seemingly made for him, but in reality was created for a malevolent being's amusement.

He sighed and collapsed on his bed. It was clearly an old mattress, it groaned with his weight and felt lumpy and uncomfortable. A bed was a bed though, and his younger body could survive roughing it for one night. Just as he felt himself drift off, his phone rumbled again. He eyed it with a flash of anger, snatching it off the nightstand to switch it off, but quickly he noticed something that hadn't been there before.

"What are you?" A new app had appeared, a small icon with an abstract red eye at its centre. Sojiro took an immediate dislike to it, and deleted it straight away. "Well it's gone now."

Finally, the sandman had come to call. His heavy eyelids drifted close as he started to lose himself in slumber. Yet sleep is a strange sensation, when your subconscious is at its strongest and every errant thought and image passes through the brain at lightspeed. And even the deepest sleeps can have that one thought that rouses them straight back to consciousness. Sojiro's eyes shot open as a realisation came crashing down upon him.

"Oh brother, I actually have to go to school tomorrow?"

call. His heavy eyelids drifted close as he started to lose himself in slumber. Yet sleep is a strange sensation, when your subconscious is at its strongest and every errant thought and image passes through the brain at lightspeed. And even the deepest sleeps can have that one thought that rouses them straight back to consciousness. Sojiro's eyes shot open as a realisation came crashing down upon him.

"Oh brother, I actually have to go to school tomorrow?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, thank you for reading the story so far. I have been enjoying writing this little AU very much so I hope to continue it. For those who have read anything of ScruffyTurtle's Adult Confident AU, I'm sure you're starting to see where things will differ. My goal is to take it in a different direction that what he has done, so they both stand on their own. If you like what you see so far, please leave a review and a kudos, helps motivate me to keep writing more.


	4. The First Day (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, hope you're all having a good one. This chapter was intended to be much larger, but I want to keep to a regular upload schedule, and I like the shorter chapter format of this story, so I've decided to upload this in parts. Part 2 could contain the rest of day one, but for now, here is the continuing adventures of Sojiro Sakura.

The morning had come far too quickly. Sojiro felt something grip his chest as he was forcefully roused from his slumber. He was sweaty and out of breath as a single notion swirled around his head; was it all a dream? His alarm boomed out beside him. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt his brain rattle inside his skull, disrupting his already feeble thought pattern. He switched off the offending device and sat at the end of his bed, trying to steady his breathing.

He was tired, yet very aware of his place in the universe. Despite his groggy state of mind, he had the wherewithal to avoid looking at his body, fearful at what he might find. Slowly he turned towards the mirror, stopping mere centimeters before it came into his line of sight. A revelation was but a mere head turn away. Yet he was frozen in place, anxiety grabbing hold of his chest again. As he mindlessly stared at the wall, he could not help but wonder exactly what he feared most? To see his old run down body glaring back, or his youthful form. And that realisation terrified him most of all.

“Christ kiddo, not like you’ve never been to school before,” Futaba chuckled.

Sojiro felt his heart explode forth from his chest at the old woman’s voice. He leapt from his bed again and onto his feet. The older Futaba stood by the doorway, a small plate in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. She smirked at him and chuckled again. It took Boss a moment to process what had occurred, but one thing was clear, he was still in this ‘other’ world.

“Have you heard of knocking?” He shouted angrily.

“Have you heard of early mornings? At least you can get some sleep, my bloodstream is basically caffeine these days.” Nothing fazed her. His mean look and raised voice barely even shook her, it doused Sojiro’s flames swiftly. 

“Well can you at least knock in the future?”

“Um, I did. You ignored me. Saw you sitting there like you’re heading for the gallows.” 

Sojiro paused at that. Was he really that oblivious? She really had no reason to lie to him. Then there was that word; ‘gallows’. One of the perks of adult life was you didn’t have to worry about school anymore. At certain times it felt like the only perk. Now he was facing it all over again. He let out a long sigh as Futaba rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be a baby, c’mon. Eat up, you gotta get ready.”

She walked over and placed the small plate and glass beside him. He looked incredulously at his meal. They were store bought pancakes, likely put in a microwave and drizzled with far too much syrup. He already missed his curry. He looked up at her, unable to mask his mix of disgust and disappointment. She only laughed.

“Hey, I haven’t cooked properly in nearly five years now, I ain't changing for you.”

“Just making a mental note to start making my own breakfast from now on,” he grimaced

“Suit yourself, but you’ll need a proper kitchen for that.”

“You don’t have one?” Warning bells began to ring out inside him.

“If you count a microwave and the tiniest oven you’ve ever seen, sure. We got one.”

Sojiro was beginning to feel ill. Futaba retreated back down the stairs to let him wallow in his misery. He forced down the pancakes, showered, got dressed, and followed her below. His caretaker greeted him with a cheeky grin and a wave. He looked about to find the scene identical from the evening before. The few people he could spot in the booths remained like figures trapped in time.

“You better hurry, don’t wanna be late on your first day,” Futaba called out.

Sojiro craned his neck over towards the clock. If school starting times were still the same in this dimension, he had forty five minutes at best to get there. Feasible by train, but much easier by car.

“Oh boy,” he muttered to himself, realising he was in a bit of trouble. 

“C’mon, step to it, I do have customers y’know?”

“You mean they actually come out of those booths?”

“Sometime, not often, but everyone needs a snack or two, right?”

“So… ugh, where is the school again?” He asked sheepishly, realising instantly how bad it sounded. With how things were rearranged, he couldn’t risk the possibility that it too had moved.

“Seriously?” She asked him with an arched eyebrow. He could only respond with a weak smile as she rolled her eyes. “You got a phone, Kiddo. Take the train, it gets you close enough. Or what? You need mommy to hold your hand on your first day?”

Older Futaba had a bit of a mean streak on her. Sojiro made a mental note he’d have to keep that in check in her later years.

“Can I not get a lift?” He asked innocently, assuming she must at least have a car.

The air grew cold. Something tense settled in between them. He could hear Futaba shudder under her breath as she flinched away from him. She turned her head, lighting up a cigarette and placing it between her lips.

“What, you expect me to fly you now?”

“I meant by car,” he pressed on. He quickly wished he hadn’t. Futaba’s usual vibrant face morphed into a dirty look. He could see something snap behind her eyes. Her fists balled up, nearly crushing the lit cigarette in her hand.

“… I haven’t driven a car in over five years. And you know why. You wanna stay under this roof? Don’t you dare ask me that again.”

It was not a request, it was a warning. Boss felt something shiver up his spine. He felt like he was facing down a mama grizzly bear on the verge of striking him down. He never thought he could ever feel threatened by Futaba, but despite their similarities, it was never more clear to him that this was not the same little girl he had raised for all those years ago. She had been beaten down by anger, broken from tragedy, and instead of morphing into a shut-in, she had built a place where she could simmer in her misery.

“Understood,” he said carefully, slowly.

“Now get out of here, I mean it this time.” She spun round and worked over her coffee machines, refusing to look him in the eyes again.

Sojiro wanted to say something. The last thing he wanted was to leave her on such a bitter note. Yet his time was up, and lingering would only piss her off more. Whether he liked it or not, he was now headed for school. He slowly opened the shop door, looking back towards her, before stepping out into the unknown.

* * *

“Oh my god, I can’t believe break is already over!”

“I know right. I was literally so tired this morning. My mom literally threw me in the shower.”

“Like, I was literally dead. Literally!”

“If she uses the word ‘literally’ one more time...” Sojiro grumbled to himself.

The journey to school had been an uneventful, but stressful one. The train lines were not the same as he was used too, but thankfully, Shujin Academy was exactly where it was supposed to be. Unfortunately for him, Sojiro was now stuck behind two of the most obnoxious teenagers he had ever encountered. Never before had he been so content that his clientele aired on the older side. 

He was already losing the will to live and he hadn’t even made it to the school gates yet. So vapid and mind-numbing was their conversation that he almost missed the familiar face that collided with him. She tripped just as she tried to pass him by, sprawling the textbooks she was holding across the pavement. 

“Damn it!” She cursed, scrambling to pick them up.

“Here, let me help,” Sojiro said, picking up what fell at his feet. Seemingly she ignored him, or rather, was so panicked she didn’t hear a word he said. When she noticed several books still missing, she swung her neck around to find him holding them.

“Hoo boy,” Sojiro muttered under his breath. He had seen her before. Her fluffy brunette hair, her porcelain skin, her doe-eyed glare, the one stark difference was her lack of maid uniform. “Forgive me, but I never forget a face.”

A switch flipped in the Boss’ brain. An old familiar instinct took over. He shot her a cocky grin, a pair of half-lidded eyes, and deepened his voice just enough that it produced a low rumble as smooth as chocolate. Yet she seemed unfazed by his advances, almost annoyed at him in fact. She didn’t reach for the books straight away, instead choosing to look him up and down.

“Oh god, it’s you,” she groaned, finally snatching the books away. “I was hoping I wasn’t going to run into you any time soon.”

“Gotta say, I miss the outfit,” he replied, undeterred by her rebuff.

“Please don’t. That’s exactly why I wanted to avoid you.” She huffed. “No one from our school takes the train that far.” 

She got off from the floor and dusted her uniform down. This definitely suited her better. She wore a white polo and had discarded the blazer. She contrasted it with a long black blouse and neck scarf. Back in the day, she would definitely have been on Sojiro’s radar, but he had to remind himself he was still an old man at heart. This was more than a little weird. He corrected himself and reeled his seductive side back in.

“Sorry, let's start over. I’m Sojiro, Sojiro Sakura.”

“... Sadayo Kawakami.” She reluctantly answered, now feeling embarrassed.

“Sadayo-Chan. Third year yourself, right?” She nodded. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Running late, huh?” As soon as he said it, her eyes opened wide in panic.

“Oh crap,” she blurted out, spinning around. “Gotta run. See you!” She shouted back at him.

He watched her jog away from him at a dangerous pace. He couldn’t help but shake his head at her, knowing full well she was in danger of falling again. Sure enough, Sojiro heard Kawakami tumble further up the sidewalk. He raced up to her and stuck out a hand to help her up. Despite wincing in pain, Sadayo was reluctant to take it. 

“C’mon, I won’t bite,” he teased.

She sighed and took his offer, letting him gently pull her up to her feet. She dusted herself off again, her cheeks now tinged with a scarlet blush.

“You need to slow down,” he chuckled. “You’re really gonna hurt yourself.”

“I can’t, I’m late as it is,” she grumbled, picking up her books again.

“We’re not that late, school doesn’t start for another half an hour.”

“Maybe you’re not, but I am. I have so much I need-”

“Kawakami!” Screeched a voice on the road. Sadayo turned white as a ghost and physically cringed as she recognised that tone instantly. 

Sojiro looked to his right to find a woman parked haphazardly in the middle of the road. She stared daggers at Sadayo, or she would have, if her dark sunglasses weren’t in the way. She was an older woman, most likely in her forties, with dyed black hair and heavy make-up. Her flashy red car was an italian model and seemed quite luxurious. She had a dull scarf tied under her chin and over her head and wore a beige coat. 

“Saitta-Sensei!” Sadayo yelped, realising it really was the woman herself. “You’re early!”

“What are you doing here, girl?” The woman growled. “You were meant to have everything ready for me already!”

“I am so sorry, Sensei.” Kawakami bowed as she tried to hide her face.

“Typical,” Saitto rolled her eyes. The glasses fell slightly, revealing her bloodshot eyes. If Sojiro didn’t know any better, he would have guessed she’d been drinking quite heavily the night before. “Get in the car. You’ll need to work twice as fast to make up for lost time.”

Sadayo looked at Sojiro before hurriedly rushing towards her Sensei, not even granting him a farewell. The look in her eyes was one of shame and embarrassment, and Sojiro felt his heart ache in response. She didn’t need to be spoken to that way. Hot flashes of dark memories burned in the back of his mind. He could hear angry scolding and disgusting language directed at a defenseless child. He could see Futaba curled up in a ball in fear and panic as she lost her grip on reality. Subconsciously, he scowled at the woman in the car, who looked at him only in disinterest.

Sadayo hurriedly opened the side door. The cars had quickly built up behind Saitto, now honking at her to move. She did not care. The second Sadayo had closed the door, they sped off far too quickly down the road. Boss stared off after them, watching the car vanish in the distance. He could only shrug his shoulders and carry on towards the school. In the back of his mind, he could not help but wonder when he might see Kawakami again.

* * *

Shujin Academy came into view as Sojiro turned the corner. He looked upon it with a strange sense of nostalgia. He had never attended it before, but he fondly remembered taking Ren on his first day there. At the time it was an annoyance. Now he wished he could have enjoyed himself more in that very moment.

Students milled about outside as they slowly trickled in, grouped up in their cliques and factions as they made battle plans for the rest of the day. As he drew closer, something started to feel off to Sojiro. He did not remember the gates looking so run down. The black paint upon them was peeling off, and the metal underneath had become notably rusted. It was not a promising start.

“Oh brother,” he remarked as he slowly entered the jaws of the behemoth. There were eyes upon him instantly. People regarded him as if a strange beast had wandered onto the school grounds. He was an unknown, and already he could hear people muttering about him. Sojiro considered himself made of stronger stuff, he could and often would bite back, but he knew better than that. Just like an overbearing customer, he paid them little heed, carrying on with his day instead.

He tried to distract himself and focus on anything else. He passed by the lockers and noted they fared no better shape than the school gates. Many were punched in and utterly useless now. The grey walls had a few unfortunate stains, and even mild bits of graffiti. Now more than ever did he understand exactly what Futaba meant when she said it was one of the worst schools in the country. 

He made it to the first hallway, but the glaring and whispering had not let up. The notice board in front of him looked as if it was barely hanging on to the wall. It proved no help in pointing him to where he should go. He looked around and realised just how lost he was. Was he meant to go to the faculty office? Where would that even be now?

“You seem a little lost there?”

Soiro heard a kind voice emerge directly behind him. He found himself in the presence of a slightly older woman wearing the school’s tracksuit. She was slim and had tied-up black hair in the shape of a ponytail. She had a kind smile, one that initially caught him off guard. It was a stark contrast to the miserable atmosphere of the school thus far, but he quickly found himself relaxed in her presence.

“I suppose I am,” he chuckled to himself. 

“I don’t recall seeing you here before, is this your first day?”

“That’s right.”

“Judging by the look of you, I’m guessing… third year?”

“Right you are,” he assumed. He didn’t know for absolute certainty. When he developed his goatee for the first time, it was when he had started his third year of school. By that logic he reasoned he must be around that age. “Truth be told, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“That’s alright, new places overwhelm me too. You should head to the faculty office so we can find out what class you're assigned to, though I suspect I already know. Would you like me to come with you?”

“I’d like that,” he answered with a genuine smile.

This was his kind of woman. Beautiful, kind, athletic, looking over her once more, she was probably in her mid to late twenties. She radiated a gentle aura, one he had rarely seen before. 

“My name is Shiho, Shiho Suzui. I’m the head athletics coach at the school. What’s your name?”

“Sojiro Sakura. Please, look after me Shiho-Sensei,” he bowed to her, causing Shiho to giggle.

“You’re a charmer, aren’t you?”

She directed him to follow as she led the way. Sojiro no longer felt eyes upon him, as the student’s glares shifted to Shiho. Yet there was no sense of malicious or suspicious intent. Instead he could see a surprising amount of respect and admiration amongst the people she walked by. It was an infectious feeling. He lost himself in the same way, ogling her as she walked ahead of him. He caught himself staring too late as she looked back towards him, so he tried to cover himself with a question.

“I don’t suppose you’ll be teaching me,” Sojiro asked. 

“Oh no, I just look after the athletics department. It’s nice to give students a chance to exercise and find an outlet. Many of you come from rough backgrounds, so I understand the need to vent.”

“It’s that bad here?”

“Well this is a rougher school, I’m not blind to that. I came here for that reason. You kids need someone who you can trust, who will listen to you. More often than not, parents default to ‘tough love’ as an acceptable parenting strategy. It’s simply not. It leads to young people rebelling, throwing away their life for zero gain. Shujin is supposed to be a dumping ground, but it can be more.”

“Dumping ground?”

Shiho suddenly paused. She had stopped right outside the faculty office and looked at Sojiro like he had just asked her if the sky was really blue. For his part, Sojiro felt himself starting to sweat, thinking he had once again said the worst possible thing he could today. 

“You really don’t know? Do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Sojiro said a bit more sternly. His eyebrows arched and his hands went to his hips. He was showing his age.

“How did you end up there?”

“I applied,” again, he assumed. Judging by what Futaba had told him, it was seemingly his choice.

“Did you have anywhere else to go?” Shiho pressed further.

“I… ugh... “ Boss scratched the back of his head, at a loss as to what he should say.

“No, sorry, forgive me. That was tactless of me,” Shiho apologised. “I shouldn’t ask if you’re not comfortable sharing.”

“It’s not that. It’s more… I don’t have an answer to give.”

“That’s fair. Really I shouldn’t use the words ‘dumping ground’ either, but everyone calls the school that. Even the other members of faculty. Hard not to get swept up into it all.” Shiho looked around and noticed they were drawing more eyes than usual. “Tell you what, let's talk more in the office.”

She ushered him to follow her inside. The office was a mess. The first thought that went through Sojiro’s head was why anyone would leave it this way. All the desks were horribly cluttered with pointless tacky items and improperly filed paperwork. The carpets were stained beyond recognition. Whatever colour they once were, they now resembled an unpleasant shade of green and brown. What didn’t make it into the bins was left to clutter up the floor. No cleaner would get paid enough to tidy this room.

Shiho gave Sojiro a knowing smile as they walked inside. She seemed embarrassed at the state of it all, but Boss knew there was not much she could do. Unsurprisingly, her space seemed the least like a disaster, propped next to the only other desk resembling some semblance of cleanliness. There sat two people; one was what was presumably a teacher who had his face behind a computer screen and the other was a boy with short dyed grey hair and a single plaster on his face. He sat off to the side, staring into space. He did not acknowledge Sojiro or Shiho as they drew closer.

“Mishima-San?” Shiho spoke up as they got closer.

The man stuck his head up from behind his monitor. He was dishealved thing, barely resembling any teacher Sojiro could remember. He looked between the three of them as if he had just been lifted out of a century long coma. 

“Suzui-San,” he responded with an almost relieved smile. “What can I do for you?”

“More what can you do for this young man here,” she corrected while motioning to Sojiro. “I believe I have found another one of your strays.”

“Strays?” He looked at her blankly at first, before his face lit up again. “Oh, Sakura-Kun?”

“That’s right,” Sojiro chuckled, a bit bewildered to being called ‘kun’ again. The odd man's hair was a spiked up mess. He had notable bags under his eyes and likely looked older than he actually was. Yet much like Shiho, he seemed like the friendly, honest sort. He stood up to greet Sojiro properly, revealing his untucked white shirt and black tie that wasn’t done quite to the top.

“Nice to meet you, I’ll be your homeroom teacher this year.” he stood there awkwardly, unsure what he should do next, so Mishima settled on smiling harder. This did not endear him to Sojiro, but he did appreciate the effort.

“I-I see,” Sojiro stammered out, slightly flustered. 

“We rarely get transfers here from the third year of all places, but I will do my best to accommodate you. Your grades were surprisingly solid when I checked your file, I thought there might have been a clerical error,” he chuckled.

Sojiro’s eyes drifted away from the awkward man and towards the boy his age sitting by his desk. He knew he shouldn't stare, but just a quick glance told Sojiro he was looking at a timebomb. Yet the boy blanked him entirely. He seemed entirely unaware of the world around him, or rather just didn’t care. Misihima noticed where Sojiro’s eyes drifted off to and quickly cut in.

“And this here is Iwai-Kun. He’s starting today just like you.”

At the mention of his name, the silent figure turned his head a mere few centimeters in their direction and looked over Sojiro. He said nothing at first, regarding him more like a target than a fellow student.

“... Hey,” was all he said, before staring forward again.

“He doesn’t speak much,” Mishima nervously chuckled. 

“Well I’m sure you’ve got your hands full,” Shiho cut in, clapping her hands together. “Don’t forget that class starts in ten minutes. I know how you get lost in your monitor.”

“Yes, good point,” Mishima laughed worriedly. It was a slight tease, one in good fun, but judging how serious Mishima seemed to take it, Sojiro realised it probably hit a little too close to home.

“And as for you two,” Shiho addressed the two students. “Keep in mind there will be a special assembly after lunch today. Attendance is mandatory. So no sneaking off on your first day.”

“Can you imagine? Ditching your first day of school?” Sojiro snickered, another memory popping in his head. “What kind of troublesome kid would do that?”

“Hopefully not you.” Shiho poked sojiro with her finger, but kept her warm smile. She looked at the clock again, grimacing to herself. “I know I said we’d talk, but time has crept up on me as well. I can explain more to you later, just come and find me. Otherwise, just ask Mishima-San. He’s very capable, I promise.”

“Ah, you wound me Shiho-San,” Sojiro sighed. “But I’ll keep our date in mind. After school perhaps?”

“I don’t think that would be strictly appropriate,” she scoffed, but still maintained her smile.

“You sure I can’t convince you? I make one hell of a curry, I promise you, it will be the best you’ve ever had.”

“School hours only,” she insisted. He could see a twinkle in her eye though, one he knew all too well. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Mr. Sakura.”

With that, she turned and began to walk away. Boss couldn’t help but grin as he watched her. Just as she was out of earshot he muttered under his breath, “And I’ll be keeping one on you.”

“Right, should we head to class then?” Mishima proposed. Sojiro almost forgot the other two people in the room and was taken aback by the sudden attack of exuberance. Before either young adult could answer him, the homeroom teacher took off towards the classroom.

Sojiro and the boy called Iwai briefly shared a look towards one another. Boss found him difficult to read. Even with the strange way he regarded him, he sensed no outward aggression from the grey haired boy. Rather a cautious defense. He was a wounded animal, not afraid to pounce if Sojiro drew too close, but if he kept his distance, then Boss might live another day.

“Here we go,” Sojiro sighed. He quickly caught up to Mishima, with the grey haired boy not too far behind him.


End file.
